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Broken Dreams(238)

By:Rissa Blakeley


“Are you fucking kidding me?” He forced her arms to her sides. “All that beautiful, long, curly ginger hair, your pale skin, smallish swollen tummy. Creamy legs. God, babe. I could look at you for hours. Look at what you do to me.” Her eyes glanced down at his obvious excitement. He pushed her knees apart and settled on her, being careful not to lay on her bump. He kissed her with passion. He nipped at her lips and ran his tongue around her jawline. She moaned with desire.

“Nick…,” she whispered in his ear.

He slowly rocked himself into her. She fought not to cry out. Nick took her face in his hands, waiting for her cue to continue. She was panting, and every time she breathed, Nick could hardly handle it. She was so tight around him, and he loved her so much that he wanted to make her feel his love for her.

He groaned a little too loud as he moved with long, slow strokes. She shushed him. He laughed a little and apologized. Then he began pumping his hips into hers.

Several minutes later, he threw his head back and his breathing went ragged again. His heart raced in pleasure. Claire tore her nails down his back as he dipped further into her. She was clenching down around him.

“Oh, God, babe. I’m close. Fuck!” he barked out. “You drive me crazy.” She pulled him close to her, and shifted her hips, instantly hitting her spot. Within seconds, she shattered beneath him.

He tried like hell not to pound into her, but he couldn’t control himself as her body gripped on to him. She grabbed his face so she could watch him come. His face twisted, and then his jaw fell open as he hit his peak. Nick moaned out her name, and she smiled. After he collapsed on the bed next to her, breathless, she rolled over on her side, still smiling. She interlaced her fingers with his.

“I love you,” she said in her soft voice.

“I love you, and Willow, so much, Claire.” He ran his palm along her jaw. He was so in love with her and the baby, and when he saw her eyes fill with tears, he knew she felt it, as well. He kissed her once more. “As much as I want to chat, babe, I need some sleep. I’m spent.”

“You can go to sleep, as long as you cuddle with me.” He pulled the blankets up over them and snuggled up against her body. He sighed happily, and fell asleep.

She laid there for a moment, thinking about holding his child for the first time. She rubbed her belly as the baby danced around. Claire’s eyelids began to feel heavy and she drifted off to sleep, smiling, with her heart full of joy.



***



“Well, looks like three bedrooms, Thomas,” I said. “Lucky for you, you get a bed tonight.” He smiled and shuffled his feet into his temporary bedroom.

I sighed when I heard noises from Claire’s room. Gross, I thought. I hurried away from the hallway, but dragged my feet as I went back out to the living room. It was time for the hardest part of the night.

Dragging Henry’s drunk ass into bed.

He was passed out against the wall with a bottle in his hand. My heart broke for him. My poor Henry was such a beautiful wreck.

I missed Henry so much. Sometimes I wondered if I was ever going to get him back. I stood there staring at him, listening to him quietly snoring. I put my hands over my face to try to push back the emotion that I was being flooded with. I choked out a few cries.

I needed to gather myself. I needed to help my beautiful lover who, seemingly, was trying to make himself forget everything that had ever happened to him. I knelt down in front of him and pried the bottle from his death grip.

“Lover…” I took his cold hands. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was dead. How ironic does that sound? “Hey…” I touched his face. He moaned and swatted at my hand. “Henry. Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He moaned again. His eyes flickered opened. The brilliant green sparkled, even in his half-lidded, drunken state.

“Come on. You have to help me. I can’t carry your butt all the way in there.” He chuckled a little. At least he wasn’t always angry when he was drunk. He started to get up, but decided he wasn’t ready yet.

“Whoa…” He fell back down to a sitting position. I sighed with great irritation.

“What’s wrong?” I was afraid to ask, but I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

“I’ve got a…serious case of…the spins.” That was just what I wanted to deal with. I was so tired and just wanted to get to bed. Every time Henry got the spins, it was usually followed up by a round, or twelve, of puking.

“Perfect. Are you going to be sick?” He laughed again, and I rolled my eyes. “I mean puke, Henry, puke. Are you going to fucking puke?” I was quickly becoming angry, as opposed to feeling sorry for him.